Dual Singularity
by Jaganashi
Summary: Some advice is shared between friends, and somehow it's Yusuke doing the sharing. Shortfic.


Disclaimer: I do not own Yu Yu Hakusho. I do not make money from anything Yu Yu Hakusho related. On the contrary, I spend my money _on_ such things.

Kurama's room was far more simplistic than Yusuke ever seemed prepared for. The fox had always been nothing, if not elaborate. In his attacks, in his cunning, hell, in his very presentation.

Shuichi's room, however, was anything but. A small bed adorned with a white pillow and a solid colored comforter. A wooden chair pulled up to a plain, utilitarian desk. Numerous books lined the surface of said desk and filled an equally unremarkable bookshelf, each one no doubt organized and kept in its rightful, spotless place. Yusuke realized, not for the first time, that there was a decided lack of personal effects. There had always been very little in that room that he could pinpoint as being _Kurama_.

Which, Yusuke supposed, was the whole point of being Shuichi.

The red head was too preoccupied with tending to his own bandages to notice the teen's disapproving expression. Yet another battle gone by, where Kurama could have avoided all of the pain, the blood, and the lying to Shiori about startling wounds if only he had allowed himself to transform into Yoko. Yusuke was getting fed up by the inexplicable stubbornness- and he was one to talk. But this new standard of Kurama's, this new life or death stand of his, just didn't make any damn sense to the now on retainer spirit detective. When he had returned to the final showdown with Sensui and found a silver-haired kitsune by his side, it had still distinctly been Kurama. Yet since then, the demon who Yusuke saw as his most intelligent friend continued to deny the boost of strength and healing, even at his own peril.

"You look upset, Yusuke. I can assure you that the books mean you no harm."

Brown eyes darted to give a good, hard glare. He hadn't even realized that he had started staring off into space, let alone where his gaze had been. But just as his eyes were empty of any real insult, Kurama's held a gentle question behind good natured humor. Yusuke frowned as he tipped the chair back onto two legs, folding his arms behind his head.

"Are you afraid that you'll lose yourself, or something?"

Kurama raised an eyebrow, inviting his friend to elaborate.

"I just don't get it. You're a smart guy, you see how only using part of your defenses are hurting you." As if it were actually needed, the teen gestured toward the bandages now adorning the other's arm and torso. "You've turned over a new leaf, and you like the life you have now. I get that. But what good is it, if you lose that life being stubborn and stupid?"

He hadn't realized how angered he had become over Kurama's actions, but now it showed in the rise of his voice. In his wild gestures. Yusuke took a breath and calmed his words into a tone that wouldn't leave the room. "Are you afraid you'll lose yourself?"

Kurama focused on the roll of gauze, reeling it into even perfection. His face was difficult to read as he formed his next words. "I retain certain...instincts of old. Increases in strength and sensory sensitivity. I..." It took a moment, but once the word came to him, he looked up to meet the other's gaze. "...Change. There's no telling how much that exposure to my previous biology will effect what I am today."

Yusuke shrugged his shoulders, bordering on flippant. "Yeah, so? People change. I bet you she doesn't only understand that, she expects it."

The she that he was referring to didn't have to be elaborated between them. Kurama's response was to give a small head shake of frustration. He took a breath as if preparing for a lengthy explanation, but kept it surprisingly simple. "There are too many unknown variables, Yusuke. I don't know how much of Shuichi I'll lose."

"But you are Shuichi. You just care enough about this family that you're willing to be the good student. The good..." Yusuke's hand waved around for a moment, until he found the perfect fit. "The good son."

Kurama was looking at him as if he were dense. The way the teachers looked when they were no longer listening to a damn thing that he was saying because they were too busy formulating their own opinions that were about to be shoved down his throat. Yeah, Yusuke didn't like that look.

"God Dammit! Think about it, Kurama!" Green eyes widened as the red head was startled out of whatever reply he was fabricating. "As much as you play pretend here, you're also yourself. You wouldn't be so happy if you weren't. So the only thing that makes sense to me, is that you're afraid of losing yourself to some other form."

There it was. That sharpened look of someone finally taking him seriously. Hearing. Thinking. There was even the slightest tilt of the head, an indication that Yusuke had picked up along the way to mean the Kurama was giving considerable thought to something. It was about damn time.

The reply was so softly spoken that Yusuke wasn't sure if it was directed at him or not. "Perhaps."

Now he was getting somewhere. Now it made the smallest bit of sense, even if not completely. So Yusuke set out to either clarify or confuse- sometimes it worked out either way. " If you changed to Yoko forever, do you think that you would lose yourself?"

The answer was swift, final. "I would lose _her_."

Yusuke shook his head, allowing the chair to drop back onto four legs. "No, no. Take _her_ out of the picture." He glanced around the room, trying to think of how Kurama would say it. "You're talking about variables and math and stuff, right? Well, she's not even in the equation, okay. What about when she's not around anymore? If you were in good health and returned to being Yoko, do you think you'd lose yourself? Who you are? Who you've become?"

This time, the response wasn't immediate. Green eyes shifted to the side and clouded in reflection for several moments of silence. The catchy intro music of some television show barely floated up from downstairs, filling the void until Kurama's eyes focused back onto Yusuke with a decisive answer. "No."

He responded with a smile, happy and victorious. Kurama didn't match it, but the steely look of 'I know best' had vanished to be replaced with his infamous poker face. Yusuke figured that the fox knew where he was going with this, and opted to say it aloud for emphasis. "So if you won't lose yourself to Yoko fifty years from now, why are you so afraid that could happen tomorrow?"

Kurama was studying Yusuke now, as if after all these years of being on and off teammates but steady friends there were still things undiscovered between them. If it were anyone else, Yusuke would have been irritated by the attention; somehow, though, he managed to take it simply for what it was. Just one of Kurama's ways of deciphering. Thinking. Deciding.

"You know, Yusuke." There was a soft laugh, just an exhale of air past smiling lips. "You really can be brilliant when it comes to the people and things you care about."

The dark-haired teen gave a smug smile and thumbed his nose for good measure. "Not sure if I appreciate the disclaimer, but thanks I guess. Does this mean you'll go back to using your brain too? Or should we stock up on more gauze?"

Kurama leaned over to a desk drawer, tucking the roll into a discreet location. He was still smiling, but it had become something more enigmatic. A moment later, Yusuke heard the familiar footsteps of someone coming upstairs. No doubt Shiori, coming to check on her son and his friend. And providing Kurama with the perfect excuse to fox his way out of a direct answer.


End file.
